I See You
by Igrayne01
Summary: One-Shot. Cammen and Gheyna find themselves falling in love after she is charged by Zathrian to train him as a Dalish hunter.


**Disclaimer: This piece of fan fiction was inspired by the characters of Cammen and Gheyna in the Dalish encampment (in Bioware's **_**Dragon Age**_**) and also by James Cameron's **_**Avatar**_**. I know that Gheyna was never a warrior in the game, but I thought it would be interesting if she was the one to train Cammen to become a warrior, and I liked the relationship between Neytiri and Jake Sully and wanted it to be similar to this. I know a lot of things aren't canon, but I just was playing around and having fun with it.**

**

* * *

**Drawing an arrow, feather-first, from his shoulder-mounted quiver, Cammen proceeded through the forest cautiously. His silent steps brought him to the edge of a clearing, where two rivers converged at the western edge of a marsh. Judging from the abundance of overgrowth and underbrush, a fast-moving storm had recently felled some of the larger trees, leaving nothing but a mass of ruin in its wake.

He was safe here, for the moment being. Though he had no doubt in his mind that his attackers would not give up their pursuit so easily, he had made sure to trace an almost impossible route deep into the heart of the Brecilian Forest. So deep, in fact, that he had all but lost his way back to his clan. By now, it was probably little more than a smoldering ruin.

The frightened elf pricked his pointed ears to the sound of movement in the distance, and his eyes turned instinctively to the one shaking bush before him. He timidly nocked the arrow to his bow, the black fletching and streamlined shaft morphing into a deadly weapon. His fingers drew back the string of the bow a fraction of an instant too late; within seconds, two elven hunters had surrounded him, their bows drawn tight and aimed at his face.

"What's this?" the smaller of the two hunters said with iciness. Her crimson hair and deep green eyes contrasted strikingly with her creamy pale skin, and she bore no tattoos, unlike the larger hunter—a strapping young male with features similar to her own. "A child who wandered from the safety of his aravel?"

"I am called Cammen," he said levelly.

"And you are somewhere you shouldn't be, _da'len_," the woman spat, her green eyes narrowing suspiciously at the sight of him. Her unwavering gaze was as constant as her grip upon the bow shaft.

"How did you get here? Speak quickly, lest you wish to never speak again!" the man interrupted.

"F-forgive me," Cammen stuttered, his fingers tangling in the arrow's feather, tentatively moving to replace it in his quiver. "I did not know another aravel was near… I am lost."

"Ignorance is no excuse for trespassing. Begone, _da'len_, before you suffer the consequences of your foolishness!"

Cammen's throat went dry the way it always did when he was nervous.

"My aravel was attacked by _shemlen_. I watched my father and mother burn, and by now I'm guessing the rest of my clan is dead as well."

The two hunters exchanged unreadable glances. This close, Cammen could discern the intricate labyrinth of tattoos decorating the male's face: they were a vivid shade of red, and they had been painstakingly inked over his prominent nose and cheeks. The red designs seemed to reflect the look of murderous rage the elf now bore upon his visage. The woman, on the other hand, looked to have softened slightly at the mention of his parents.

Cammen dug his heels into the mud to try and steady himself. His heart was beating so fast, he felt as though he would simply collapse. The thought of his mother and father remained foremost in his mind, compelling him to stand strong against the impending threat. Surely now was not the time for cowardice.

"How, then, did you escape?" the female shot at him.

"Through no small miracle," Cammen answered feebly, trying to elicit a smile from her despite her impassive expression. "I was tending to the halla when they descended upon the camp. I hid in the paddock, where I remained until I was certain they had gone. Unfortunately, they were laying in wait for me. I ran as soon as I realized they were following me."

"Then you have led them directly to us, _fool_!" the heavily tattooed man screamed. "For that you must die!"

"No!" the female screamed, her hand slapping his arrow to the ground, where it clattered against a rock. "Do not kill him. This is a matter for the Keeper to decide."

"Before or after our aravel is burned to the ground by these _shem_?"

"Peace, Orestes. This man has had the protection of the gods over his life—why else is he still living? Surely Zathrian will wish to hear of this. Perhaps Cammen is the one Zathrian spoke of who will help us to defeat Witherfang. Perhaps it is the gods who have caused our paths to cross in such a way as this."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gheyna. This boy can no more defeat the great werewolf than you can sing in tune. So rid your head of such fanciful notions—_and let me kill him_."

Orestes stooped over to retrieve the arrow, but Gheyna had planted her heel on it, causing the fragile wood to snap in two.

"I will not. We're bringing him back with us."

"You will regret this, Gheyna," he said softly. This close, Cammen could feel anger coming off the seething elf in waves. Were it not for the presence of the female, he had no doubt the man would have shot first and asked questions later. He silently thanked the gods for her interference.

"What now?" Cammen asked.

"Orestes knows this forest like the back of his hand; he will lead them off our trail."

"I will _try_," the man grunted. "But I can guarantee very little."

"And you and I will return to the aravel, and to our Keeper, Zathrian," Gheyna continued, undeterred.

The three hunters moved toward the margin of the clearing, where Gheyna pulled Orestes toward her, both hands planted on either cheek. Feeling suddenly shy, Cammen backed away, trying to act inconspicuous so as to allow for the two to share their own private moment before parting. Gheyna reached to her throat where a sparkling red amulet was anchored. Her hands deftly undid the clasp, slipping it about the man's neck before patting it into place.

"There. For luck. _Andaran atish'an_."

He bowed his head."_Andaran atish'an_."

With a kiss to the cheek, Orestes set off at a swift pace, weaving a path through the thick branches. His movements were nimble and practiced, and Cammen had to marvel at the way he made himself scarce with so little effort, making it appear as though he had never been there at all. He looked to Gheyna, who was already tromping ahead through the dense foliage.

"Wait up!"

"I hope you're in shape; we _won't_ be walking at a leisurely pace, _da'len_," Gheyna informed him. "And we won't be stopping to rest, either."

"How far is it to the aravel?"

"About half a day's journey north."

Cammen hesitated, his voice sticking in his throat for a moment before he finally found the courage to ask her, "And your husband, Orestes? Will he be able to locate us once he's done?"

She giggled lightheartedly. "We are not bonded—gods, no!"

"Why not? Surely a man such as Orestes would make a fitting bond-mate for you."

"Orestes is my _brother_!"

"Oh," Cammen said with a sigh of relief, ignoring the feeling of foolishness that accompanied Gheyna's laughter. She looked back at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, though this time it was not with suspicion.

"You are a funny thing, _da'len_. I don't know quite what to make of you."

_That's good enough for me_, Cammen thought with satisfaction as they made their way deeper into the forest.

* * *

By the time they arrived back at the center of camp, word had already spread among the Dalish of Cammen's arrival. Gheyna supposed it had something to do with the two young hunters who served as lookout at the forest's edge. When they saw the scared blonde young man with the bulbous nose following her like a lost little puppy called to heel, there had been questions aplenty. And sometime during their interrogation, the rest of the clan had crept up to witness the stranger's entrance.

Zathrian, a bald-headed elf garbed in noble gold and black robes, was already awaiting them by one of the aravels. Amidst the excited chatter of the elves, he managed to interject a welcome to the young warrior.

"Greetings, _lethallin_. I am Zathrian, chief of these tribes. And you, I presume, are the new arrival everybody is talking about."

"This is Cammen," Gheyna said with a respectful bow of her head. "His clan was attacked by _shemlen_. He is lucky to have escaped with his life."

"Indeed he is. The _shem_ would see us all enslaved, had they their way."

Zathrian walked circles about Cammen, studying him silently as the elf fidgeted under his gaze.

"Judging from the sorry state of your weapons, I'd venture a guess you haven't had much practice with them."

"No, sir. I was no warrior in my clan."

"Hmm," Zathrian said in his smooth baritone. "You are young yet, and still trainable. If you are going to join our clan, then Gheyna will have to train you into a warrior. You will be apprenticed to her for the duration of your stay here and until otherwise notified."

"What?!" The red-headed woman looked absolutely crestfallen at the Keeper's declaration. "You're joking me."

"What this man needs is guidance and patience; surely you can provide both. In time, I think he will prove to be a great hunter."

"But Keeper…"

"Do you take issue with my decision?"

Zathrian fixed her with a stare that made her feel trapped. A low, resigned-sounding sigh rumbled from her throat. Cammen could practically hear her disappointment.

"No."

"Good. You will begin training him immediately."

Gheyna bowed again to the man as he passed and nudged Cammen to do the same. Her elbow lodged in his gut, eliciting an audible "oomph!" from him as he bent double. As soon as the Keeper disappeared into his aravel, the exasperated young elf unleashed all her frustrations upon him, starting with a quick fist pummel to his shoulder.

"Don't you know anything? You're supposed to show respect to the one who leads the clans."

"In my clan, we didn't usually bow to our Keeper. A simple nod would suffice."

Gheyna raised her hands and let out a groan.

"You're absolutely hopeless. I can't believe I'm going to have to be the one to train you."

"If it's any consolation, I'm very eager to learn. Especially from one as gifted as you."

He said it in earnest, though Gheyna intentionally chose to regard it as sarcasm.

"Look, if we're going to get through this, I think it'd be a lot easier if you just didn't say anything at all. Just follow my lead and try to learn as much as possible and speed the process along, okay?"

His head bobbed furiously in acquiescence.

"Of course, Gheyna."

"Well," she said, both hands now planted on her hips, "you'd better get some sleep, _da'len_. You're going to _need_ it. We begin tomorrow."

* * *

A tiny speck of light dominated her vision and sharp, cruel lines materialized into soft images as, through a delirium-induced haze, Gheyna fluttered her eyes open. The world around her was hazy and struggling to come into focus, but even through the haze she could hear a muted voice speaking to her in hushed tones. She struggled to push herself to a sitting position, a sudden wave of fatigue coming over her.

"…Gheyna, wake up. You've been sleeping half the day…" Orestes' voice whispered in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

Adjusting her position, she cast a glance at her surroundings. The stately aravel was flanked dramatically on either side by windows facing both north and east. Clad as she was in nothing but her undergarments and a woolen blanket, Gheyna chose the less-than-modest route and flung the offending cover off her body, both legs hanging over the side of the bed. Heedless of her half-nakedness, she lifted her eyes to her brother.

"Don't you have duties to tend to, lethallin, or did I hear incorrectly?"

"You've been speaking to that ninny Lanaya again, huh? She just doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut."

"I didn't need to. Half the clan is speaking about it. Everything is 'Cammen this' and 'Cammen that.' You'd think he was the chosen of the gods from the way they're talking about him."

"I'm not so sure he isn't," Gheyna said, rubbing her sleep-weighted lids. "Only time will tell, I suppose."

"Well, get up and get dressed and eat a healthy meal. Cammen is already waiting for you outside."

Gheyna threw on her armor and boots, washed her face, and shoved down some oatmeal Orestes had prepared for her at record speed. Then she braided her red tresses into an impressive full head plait. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she exited the aravel and walked down the treads to where Cammen was sitting fireside with some of the other clan members, who were regaling him with tales of lore.

"_Andaran atish'an_," he said respectfully. "You look well today."

Ignoring the compliment, Gheyna merely said, "Follow me."

They walked in companionable silence for almost half an hour, until they reached a section of the forest where even the bravest of creatures dared not roam. Although Zathrian had privately warned her to keep Cammen out of danger, she lured him deeper into the forest in the hopes that he might somehow meet with an "accident." Young Dalish hunters met with untimely ends all the time; Cammen's would be no different. And though she did not actively wish him dead, she would not at all mourn his loss were he to succumb to an unpleasant fate.

"Is it much further?" Cammen replied after some time, his breath coming in irregular spurts. He had not yet caught on that Gheyna was leading him in circles so as to sap his energy beforehand.

"Only a little bit more."

They walked for another ten minutes before Gheyna found a clearing and set down her bow and arrow beside an outcropping of rock. The exhausted boy stooped on a nearby log below to catch his breath.

"That was quite a walk. We're not going to be doing that every day, are we?"

"Why, do you find the exercise too taxing?"

As though somehow sensing her inner glee, Cammen swiftly replied, "No, not at all. I will do whatever you tell me."

"Without complaint, I hope," Gheyna replied.

"Yes, without complaint."

"Good. Let's begin by learning the basics. Have you any knowledge of _Andruil's Charge_?"

"Yes, of course. I know of the Vir Tanadhal, the Way of Three Trees, as any good hunter ought."

"I see you have been studying. That is good. But now you will learn to put those studies to practice. Come here."

He rose tentatively and walked toward her. Her hands grasped his bow and arrow and equipped them for him, and she stood near to his ear, whispering commands.

"Nock an arrow in the center of your bowstring like this, and let the shaft of the arrow rest on the bow just above your handgrip. This will ensure your aim is true."

Her full lips hovered just inches from his ear, her hot breath having descended like a vapor over him, betraying her own anxiety at the prospect of actually being this close to him. Despite the slight trembling of her slender fingers on his own, guiding his movements, she maintained her calm, dignified manner to the best of her ability. In the distance, they watched as a lone silver wolf walked up to a stream and lowered its head for a drink.

"Now just relax and let your mind go blank. This shouldn't be hard for you."

He scowled.

"Be swift and silent; strike true, do not waver and let not your prey suffer," she whispered softly in his ear.

His fingers unleashed the arrow, and both elves watched as it went soaring through the air at breakneck speed, the wind forcing it to swirl left and right before it lodged in the beast's breast. With a final cry, the animal collapsed to the ground. Cammen stood back, aghast. Even Gheyna seemed surprised by his little victory, her heart suddenly softening at the thought of becoming his teacher.

"Did you see that? It was just as though Andruil's hand was guiding it! That was amazing!"

Gheyna smiled shyly.

"You are indeed a quick learner. Perhaps I underestimated you."

"I suppose I never gave you any cause to really think all that highly of me. As I recall, it was you and Orestes who saved me from those _shem_ when I would surely have died."

"Learn to live your life by the Vir Tanadahl and you will never have to run from them again," Gheyna told him.

"I will. And once I am strong enough I will return to join the others hunters in their defeat of the werewolves," Cammen vowed. As he spoke, Gheyna drew nearer to him, closing the distance between them in only a few paces.

"Zathrian has faith in you. He believes you are the one called to defeat Witherfang."

"Then pray that I never prove him wrong," Cammen said, turning toward her as she took his face in both her hands and brought his lips to hers. There, in the relative seclusion of the woodland, they kissed, their lips pressing together almost bruisingly. Cammen had no prior experience to speak of with matters of the heart, and so he feared he was devouring her within his kiss. His fears were unfounded, however; Gheyna welcomed his relentless feast of his mouth with passionate longing.

* * *

By the second week, Cammen had all but mastered the techniques Gheyna taught him and had proven a proficient student in every sense of the word. His inquisitive nature and passion for learning drew him to ask questions she had never before even thought of, and together they were a harmonious match. By now, he was skilled enough to sense any enemies within a five-mile radius, and she helped guide his arrow to his target each and every time.

It was on their fourteenth day of training that Gheyna deemed him ready to face Zathrian with his newfound skills. They had spent the entire day raiding a nest of giant spiders, and as they fired arrows at their enemies in quick succession, working up an easy rapport, Gheyna couldn't help an errant thought from crossing her mind: _He would make a fine bond-mate to any one of our clan's women._

Afterward, when they were cleaning off their weapons and picking clean their kills, she had blushed at the memory of the thought and secretly chastised herself for thinking such things. Cammen, as expected, was oblivious to her blossoming feelings; she watched him lean over, watched his long hands wipe the blood off the bow shaft with surprising ease, and found herself wanting those same hands to touch her in other places, aching for that beautiful mouth to steal her breath away, those limbs to entwine about her own.

But such thoughts were forbidden to a young elven woman without a bond-mate.

"You are almost ready to return to Zathrian. All that remains for you is to kill a werewolf and return its pelt to him. Your training will be complete soon, and then you will be a hunter-apprentice no longer."

"You don't know how much I long for that day," he said, slinging the bow over his back as he hopped down from the small hill he stood atop. "To be a full-fledged hunter… is something I could only dream of."

"Orestes thinks you still have a long way to go. He thinks it's laughable that I'm releasing you to Zathrian so soon."

"And what about you, Gheyna? Do you really think I'm ready?"

She narrowed her sparkling green eyes and turned to walk away from him. "You have a strong heart, and no fear… but you are sometimes so stupid and ignorant like a child! You fumble around and are hopeless and helpless, like a little baby!"

"That is why you call me _da'len_ even still, why you refuse to speak my real name?"

She looked away, refusing to answer the question.

"When I become a hunter…" Cammen began, dragging his steps as he drew nearer to her. "I know I will be able to choose a woman."

"We have many fine women," Gheyna said levelly.

"Still," Cammen said hesitantly, "There is only one I know who will make me happy. She is my heart's desire. And if she would have me, I will choose her for my wife."

His hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing it with impatience and an almost lustful urge. Gheyna shook away his hand, recognizing the need in him, and spun about on her heel to face him.

"No, I will not bond with a child," she spat angrily. "Leave me be."

Within an instant, she had disappeared into the forest, running for the aravel.

* * *

"You had better come see this," Orestes said, lifting a curtain as he gazed out the window of their aravel and into the encampment. Gheyna hastily finished dressing, lacing up her boots with one foot propped up against a chair, and then went to his side.

"What is it?"

"Looks like we have visitors."

Orestes spoke truly; Zathrian was guiding a group of wayward travelers through the camp, speaking softly to them. Among them was a dark-haired elven warrior, a battle-scarred Templar knight, a haughty-looking Witch of the Wild, and a flea-bitten Mabari hound. The ragtag band was so mismatched that, had it been any other combination, they would not have merited a second glance. Gheyna exited the aravel in haste and jogged over to the campfire to eavesdrop.

"Ho, there!" she heard the petite elven woman say to Cammen, who was ensconced in a conversation with some of the other apprentices nearby.

"_Aneth ara_, friends," Cammen said politely, looking over the brown-eyed elven woman in surprise. "You must be the Grey Warden I heard the others talking about. It's a pleasure to meet you. I wasn't expecting the Grey Warden to be… a fellow elf."

The woman chuckled lightly, brushing back several tresses of hair semi-flirtatiously.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well. How are you called?"

"My name is Cammen."

"Melania Tabris."

She extended her hand and he extended his. As their fingers touched, a wave of jealousy shot through Gheyna. The feeling was… unexpected, but not altogether surprising. The thought of any woman approaching Cammen right now was almost unbearable.

"You don't seem very happy out here, Cammen," the woman said perceptively. "I can see it in your face. Care to tell me why?"

Under her influence, Cammen was like putty in her hands—soft, malleable, and just waiting to be shaped and molded into whatever form she desired. Gheyna envied her this easy ability to manipulate others to her liking. It was clear to see she was very pretty, after all, and that no doubt had something to do with it.

"I… shouldn't be talking about this to an insider," he said hesitantly. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me. I might surprise you," she said, signaling the others that she and Cammen would walk alone together. As they went on their circuit about the camp, Gheyna leaned against a nearby tree, trying her best to remain invisible.

"I… suppose there's no harm in it. It's not like you can help me."

"Oh?" the Grey Warden replied with an eyebrow raised. She seemed so willing and ready to help him, and Gheyna could only assume this meant she wanted to bed Cammen herself. Well, not if she could help it.

"I'm still a hunter-apprentice. To become a true hunter and test my mettle to the Keeper I must bring back the pelt of a beast of note. A werewolf or… something. Then I will truly have proven myself once and for all."

"That's it? And here I thought it was something far worse," the woman said jovially.

"Well, not exactly… The real problem is Gheyna."

At the sound of her own name, Gheyna's ears pricked up, and she leaned closer to the tree to avoid being detected.

"She is the woman I love," he declared. "I have asked for her hand, but she cruelly refuses it. She will not bond with an apprentice. She still calls me a child, a _da'len_. You can't know how humiliating that is for me. I am older than her, but she does not view me as such." He grimaced. "But here I am, going on about things you couldn't possibly understand."

"I understand perhaps more than you think," Melania began. "I was engaged to be married once—Nelaros was his name. He loved me very much, but he was murdered while trying to save me. I live every day with regret, wondering how it would be if I'd done things differently."

"I'm sorry," Cammen replied feebly. "I did not mea—"

"Don't be. Just don't live _your_ life in a similar manner. Do what you must to win her love and she will be yours. Is there any way I can help?"

"I don't think so. Unless…"

"Unless what?" the pretty female inquired.

"Take me with you on our next outing into the Brecilian Forest. I will go with you and slay a werewolf, and when I return it will be with Gheyna's love."

"Very well, if that is what you wish. We would be happy for you to accompany us."

"Excellent."

Cammen said his goodbyes to the Grey Warden and then walked over toward the master craftsman's shop for a few provisions. On the way there, Gheyna intercepted him with a look of concern etched onto her features.

"Cammen, I heard what you said to the Grey Warden. Don't do this. You aren't ready to face down a werewolf by yourself. I should be there beside you so you don't forget your teachings."

Cammen's face softened at the sight of his beloved.

"You don't understand. I must do this alone. It is the only way."

"Fine! Go ahead and kill yourself! Be a fool for all I care, _da'len_! It won't make me love you."

Though she could no longer deny her own feelings, desperation fueled her words. She had hoped that by declaring this, he would refuse to venture out into the Brecilian Forest without her. It was a foolish undertaking, one that was almost certain to get him killed, despite the presence of two Grey Wardens. The desire to protect him was so strong that she almost wanted to level a punch in his direction to keep him from going. But Cammen had already made up his mind, and there was no dissuading him.

* * *

Later that day, Orestes entered the aravel, his red hair mussed and his clothing disheveled. Gheyna sat by the window, staring out at the travelers as they strode toward the Brecilian Forest. Among them was Cammen; he wore new armor that was a gift from Varathorn and had an intricate bow strung over one shoulder. Just before disappearing into the brush, he looked over his shoulder to lock eyes with her one more time. Though not a word was spoken between them, their glance said more than words ever could.

"He is leaving on a fool's errand," Orestes said scathingly from where he now stood, brushing a hand through his hair. "How very typical of him. Well, it looks like you shall have one less problem on your hands when those Wardens return to us Cammen-less."

"Hush your mouth, Orestes!" Gheyna snapped. Her eyes were ringed with red as though she had been crying, and her nose was stuffy.

"I've heard Lanaya say he has shown an interest in you. She says he has even made an offer to bond with you. I told her that was impossible, that you would never… could never…"

He stopped mid-sentence when his sister glared up at him weakly.

"So he did, did he?"

"Rest assured, I said no."

"As you should have."

Biting back tears, she spat, "And what if I _had_ said yes?"

"I would never have allowed it," Orestes snorted. "Nor would mother and father, were they still alive."

"Don't you bring them into this. That's not fair."

Orestes' hand landed on the windowsill out of which she was peering. He used it to leverage his weight into a sitting position so that he was now next to her.

"He is an apprentice, a child."

"I know that. But he will be an apprentice no longer when he returns."

"_If_ he returns," Orestes corrected.

"No, _when_. Cammen has shown great promise. I know he will come back victorious."

"Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?"

"Yes, we will," Gheyna spat vehemently. "I will do as I please, Orestes. With or without your consent."

Growing agitated, Orestes spun away, slamming the door behind him as he stormed out of the aravel.

* * *

At half-light, the hunting party returned. Though the five travelers looked none the worst for wear, it seemed as though Cammen had gotten the worst of it; bruises and lacerations dotted his forehead, and a nasty mark covered his one eye. Gheyna had been waiting all day at the window for any sign of his return, so at the first sight of the five shapes moving in the distance, she flung up from her spot and out the door, running toward Cammen.

Upon her approach, she saw him grasping in his one fist the heavily matted down pelt of a werewolf. It had been meticulously tanned and prepared for delivery to Zathrian, although a few spots of blood covered the otherwise pristine grey fur. As Gheyna drew nearer, Cammen lifted his fist victoriously to display his kill to all the other hunters. The sight of the werewolf pelt drew a collective gasp from all those who had gathered to witness their arrival.

"Cammen, you've returned!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms about his neck and kissing him in full view of everyone. Behind him, she could practically feel the Grey Warden smirking at this action of hers.

"Gheyna," he said in between kisses, his breath coming in undignified gasps as he struggled to take hold of her. "I have completed the final task. I must take the pelt to Zathrian."

Looking up from beneath dark lashes, Gheyna added, "And you must also choose a bond-mate."

"I've already chosen," Cammen insisted. "But this woman must also choose me."

"She already has," Gheyna said, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. Her hands traced the intricate tattoos on his face, learning every shape and contour with her fingertips. "I am with you now, Cammen. We are bonded for life."

With an appreciative smile at the female Grey Warden, Gheyna curled into the warm curve of his body. As his arm reflexively circled her waist, she relaxed into him with a satisfied grin. The two women exchanged mute smiles of acknowledgment.

_Andaran atish'an to you, Grey Warden, and thank you for your part in bringing us together._


End file.
